Haunt
by WindMillsOfOurMinds
Summary: I looked at what she had given me once she was gone. It was her silver howlet pendant, the one my father had given her on their wedding day. She had never taken it off for as long as I could remember, now I would be wearing it to my death. (Cato X OC)
1. Chapter o1 Kids

**Rewrite of Beautiful Disaster.**

**Please read and Review.**

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Chapter o1.

Tilia

_A family of trees wanting to be haunted_

_~Kids by MGMT_

In her dreams she is six years old again and she finds herself sitting in the Bark of District 7 building a small house out of twigs and leaves. She used little strands of ribbon to hold the twigs together in place creating pillars, and the leave steps to create a pointed roof. Her father shows up holding his axe over his shoulder and uses his free hand to shield the sun from his eyes pretending to be looking around for someone.

"Excuse me, miss?" he says finally looking down at her, "You wouldn't happen to see my daughter around here would you?"

She can never help but to smile up at him, "I'm your daughter, papa."

The man raises an eyebrow before kneeling down to her level, he tilts his head inspecting every aspect of her face before he reaches to touch her hair, pushing it aside, "No, you can't possibly be my Tilia."

Her smile grows as she reaches to tug on his bearded cheek, "I am too!"

The last thing she hears from him is a low chuckle, before he disappears. The lush green pine leaves begin to wither, what's left of the trees turns black, soon there is nothing but ashes and smoke around her, "Papa?" she calls standing up. The smoke causes her eyes to sting making it hard to see anything around her. She calls out for him again walking forward, breaking into a swift run soon after. Everything feels hot around her; it doesn't take her long to find the fire. When she turns to run back to safety she finds herself surrounded by high flames. "Papa!" She calls again hearing the screams all around her. And just as the flames engulf her, she wake up.

Tilia's green eyes snap open taking in the darkness around her. She is no longer in the forest but in her small bedroom in the Heartwood zone of her District. Her breathing is loud and uneven; it takes her a moment to find her bearings. She reminds herself that she is safe, there is no fire, it's the middle of the night, and everything is still. Tilia worries that she might have woken up her mother, but so far the silence of the house tells her otherwise.

She take a deep breath before sitting up on her bed to push the window open, letting some air in. She welcomes the cold to help her forget about the heat of the burning fire. Tilia rest her arms over the window sill before laying her head down on them; her eyes fall close without ease. She's afraid that the second they close she will be trapped once more.

During the fire of the 63rd year half of the south forest, what they call the Bark, was burnt down all the way down the mountain side. There were ten dead and about six injured, two of those ten were her father and uncle. Tilia was in school when it happened. She could still remember the commotion when older kids started showing up in the classroom to collect their younger siblings. How they ran home trying to find out if their parents where alive or not.

What was worse was that the Reaping that year happened the day after. She pushed herself off bed and makes her way to her closet to gather her pants and worn out boots. Her hands shake while she tied the lacings; all she could think about was how she only had that nightmare the night before of the reaping. It's almost like her mind does it on purpose, like there is something deep inside her that is mentally preparing her for what's to come. She knows that she won't be able to fall back asleep and the only place that can bring her peace is her father's resting place. The dark haired girl makes sure to move whisper soft past her mother's bedroom door, stepping lightly on the stairs to keep them from creaking and announcing her exit.

It's hard to see the night sky from the Heartwood, which is overgrown with ancient trees that have never been cut down. Tilia is pretty sure they had been around pre-Panem; they are the last witness of what life was like before. Her father used to tell her stories about how the Heartwood had gained its name because the old souls of the forest lived among them, and they were the hearts of District 7. He would place her small hand against the rough bark of the giant redwood saying, "_You can feel their soul if you concentrate hard enough, Tilly. If you ever need it the trees will lend you their strength. These are mighty warriors; they have lived so long to see these days._"

She runs her hand against them while she walks not minding the stinging sensation she gets from scraping them. To get to the Bark the small girl had to go south towards the Victor's Village, The Sapwood, where one lone figure stands outside staring up at the sky. This is the only place in District 7, besides the center of town, where you can see the sky clearly before going back into the forest. The figure doesn't turn to look at her but he knows she's there anyways.

"This is the clearest I've seen it all year." Blight's voice is carried by the wind making it sound like he was talking from somewhere far away and not besides her, "Pity it's before Reaping day."

He turns his gaze to Tilia's green eyes not really waiting for a response, he has the same look he had eleven years ago when he came to get her out of class. _"Time to go home, Tilia."_ He had said before taking her hand to lead the child to safety. Before the fire Blight used to walk Tilia home from school, which stopped right after he was reaped for the 64th Hunger Games. When he came back he was no longer the happy-go-lucky kid everyone knew and loved. He came back older, rotten and decayed. It took him a couple of months to get himself back together but even then he was not the same. Every year he had to watch the kids he knew growing up die, and he was helpless to stop it.

Blight had survived, but in his eyes you could see he no longer believed it was worth it.

"You're going to pay your respects?" The freckled man raised an eyebrow causing it to disappear under his unkempt hair.

Tilia turned her eyes down at my feet shrugging her shoulders feeling exposed; he was having one of his weird moods where anything you said could trigger him. Everyone in District 7 knew to watch out for a few of the younger Victors. Blight being one of the ones that had random violent episodes where he felt like breaking things or lashing out. She had only been witness to one.

He had come to visit her mother a month after the games, she and her father had been close friends with his parents. His father had died during the fire and his mother couldn't take it and, from what young Tilia understood, took her own life shortly after. Her mother had always welcomed him into their home with open arms, she's one of the District's better known apothecaries and Blight would sometimes come looking for anything to help him sleep at night. Tilia was coming back from school, she hadn't even walked through the front door and she could hear him screaming about someone not letting him sleep.

"_I don't understand! Why did she have to die? I can't take it anymore; I just want it to be over! I want to sleep! Just give me some belladonna!"_

"_That can kill you." _Mrs. Briscoe's soft voice replied.

Blight had reached for an empty glass vile before hurling it at the wall besides her head. He kept going on about wanting to kill himself and how it wasn't fair that _she _had died and he was backing home drowning in guilt. Tilia remembered how red his face was after her mother had slapped him, bringing him back to reality. He never had a burst like that again in front of Mrs. Briscoe and her respect for her mother grew more.

"You should pray to the tree spirits," Blight mumbled lightheartedly tossing the twig he was holding to the floor, "ask them to keep your name from being picked."

She nodded taking a cautious step past him, "I will."

"And Tilia," He called before she disappeared into the tree line, "Good luck."

Tilia's father doesn't have a grave; the only place she can go to pay her respects is the Bark. The people of District 7 aren't allowed down there. After the fire the fence that kept the wilderness from the bottom of the mountain away had been practically destroyed letting wild animals in, mostly wolves. The fence was back up and running but no one ever bothered to search for said animals. Every once in a few years they would hear of a random wolf attack in the North side of the village were most lumber work was now done. Tilia wasn't scared of the wolves as much as she was scared of the peacekeepers that could be patrolling the area.

The small girl walked around through the burnt forest until the first sight of sunlight. Her mother would be up soon and Tilia had to be back before she would come to wake her up. When she walked past The Victor's Village Blight was gone, there was only a faint light coming from his house. There was slight movement around the Heartwood by the time she got home, no school today of course, but men making their way north to the Cambium. They would be back by noon today with just enough time to see their children off. A few of them greeted her, some still had burnt scars on them, and they were the ones that looked at her with pity in their eyes. The dark haired girl didn't understand why. She still had to endure this for two more years then it would be over, she would be free.

"Breakfast is ready." Is the first thing Mrs. Briscoe says when her daughter walks through the door, "and how many times have I told you not to go there? It's too dangerous."

"I'm sorry, I just…couldn't sleep." Tilia mumbles biting her lower lip.

She is looking at her daughter, eyes full of fear, "Till-"

"Is the bath ready or do you want me to eat first?" Tilia didn't want to hear it, she knew that speech, and she had heard it every year since she came to age to be reaped.

Her mother sighed pushing her long brown hair back, "Eat first before it gets cold, I'm still heating up the water."

She eats in silence watching her mother labor over the little kitchen island her father built for her. Herbs were laid all around her and she knew everything there was to know about them, which ones could kill but could save your life if used correctly. Which could help clear your skin, and which could keep your hair from falling out. Tilia was born with her dark hair but had her father's green eyes. Her mother looked beautiful mixing herbs together, but it was reaping day and all she could think off was the way she had been sitting on the foyer floor with her arms wrapped around her protectively on the day of the fire.

"_He's gone." _She whispered not looking at her daughter, or Blight, or anyone for that matter. A pause and then she saw the small, scared, child, really saw her, and she pulled her into her arms, _"My sweet girl. My sweet, sweet girl."_

After her bath Tilia changed into a simple cream cotton shirt and a faded brown knee skirt and her worn out boots with the holes on the soles. She pulled her long hair up into a braided bun. She would keep on pulling at the skirt while she made her way down the stairs; her aunt had arrived with her 13 year-old cousin in toll. Dafne had inherited the Briscoe red hair that her father and his brother had, she was tall for her age, and she would probably be taller than Tilia by fifteen. If she ever saw fifteen, that is.

Tilia greeted the younger girl with a brief hug knowing what it was like to have to endure this. The four Briscoe women made their way to the Pith, which is the center of District 7, where you could find the local market and Justice Building. The closer they got the more people they came into contact with, Tilia looked up at her mother before making her way to a few of her friends from school.

"I'll see you after," She mumbled tugging at her skirt.

Her mother nodded placing her hands over hers, "Meet me at the shop then we'll head home together," The younger girl nodded, "keep an eye on your cousin."

With that they parted ways.

She doesn't know when it was that she realized it, something around them shifted when Acacia Abualrub climbed up on the stage. Blight sat back next to the District's Mayor, his hair was styled back now, but he still had a shadowed look in his hazel eyes. Next to him was Johanna Mason our newest Victor. She had won her games by pretending to be a weakling and a coward, so no one regarded her as a treat, but when only a few tributes remained, she revealed herself as a vicious killer.

"Hello again, everybody!" Acacia called standing in front of the mike; she spoke a few words before introducing the same video we watched every year before the name choosing. Acacia looked so out of place standing on that stage, her skin was oddly pale and her hair had a very light tint of green in it. Her dress this year was a short white piece covered in lights gems and crystals, with a few light feathers at the edge of her skirt. She was a glowing light amongst a sea of dirt and trees. Tilia always thought there was innocence to Acacia, you could see it in her azure eyes, like she didn't really know what she was doing, but Tilia knew better. She couldn't believe that Acacia was a saint, she was from the Capitol and all Capitol creatures knew and loved the games. Acacia included.

"Now!" Her thoughts broke at the sound of the escort's voice, "The time has come for us to select one courageous boy and girl to compete in these years Hunger Games." Dafne's hand found her cousin's before Acacia was done speaking; Tilia gave her a reassuring smile before turning her gaze back to the stage. "Lady's first, shall we?"

The dark haired girl stopped breathing and everything stood still as Acacia dipped her hand into the glass bowl fishing for a single piece of paper. She walked with delicate grace back to the mike before speaking the last name she was expecting to hear.

"Tilia Briscoe!"

There was a silence all around, not even a whisper or a gasp was heard, one that you only hear when the child of a fire victim is reaped. Her eyes turned to her mother, the older woman had turned pale, her lower lip was trembling but she stood still.

"Where are you, dear?" Acacia called again, "Come on out."

The crowd of girls broke around her leaving the short girl disclosed to Acacia's and the camera's eyes, "Ah! There you are, come on, darling."

A tear ran down her cheek as she let go of Dafne's smaller hand, "Wait-"

"It's alright," She mumbled not looking at her cousin, "It'll be okay."

Tilia didn't remember walking to that stage but she soon found herself looking at the crowd, searching for her family, then she looked south. Her green eyes could barely make out the burnt tree tops from here, she wanted to run to the Bark and hide. The girl didn't even hear when Acacia called out Rowan Hemlock's name. Before she knew it her eyes were looking up at the dark haired boy with the green eyes to shake his hand, he was too tall for her five-one stature. She realized then that she would probably die at his hands, she had no chance, and she would not be coming home ever again. So with one last look at the trees Tilia and Rowan let Acacia and the Peacekeepers lead them inside so that they could say goodbye.

Mrs. Briscoe held her daughter until she had to leave, and for three whole minutes Tilia had to hear her mother cry, "My sweet girl. My sweet, sweet girl," over and over. The young girl made her no promises, she just told her mother that she loved her and that she would try to be safe.

She slipped something into her smaller hands, "Just try to come home for me, okay?"

Tilia nodded letting her mother embrace her once more, trying hard to stop crying, "I will, I promise." She told her daughter that she loved her and then they took her away. Her eyes looked at what Mrs. Briscoe had given her once she was gone. It was her silver howlet pendant; the one Tilia's father had given her on their wedding day. She had never taken it off for as long as the girl could remember, now she would be wearing it to her death.

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	2. Chapter o2 Flaws

Chapter o2.

Cato

_There's a hole in my soul  
I can't fill it, I can't fill it_

_~Flaws by Bastille_

_There is a tradition in District 2 when a child turns six years old he or she are taken from their families and begin training in The Academy. Here they train until they turn eighteen, by the one boy, and one girl, is chosen to volunteer for the Hunger Games. For the first three years of training the child is not allowed to come home to see his family, after the third year he sees them once a week. After they have completed six years of training they may see them on the weekends, but only if they meet the training standards, if not they lose their home privileges. _

_ When the oldest son is taken the mother cries and clings to her youngest son, the father gives his oldest a reassuring smile, he lets him know that is very proud of him. For three years they only hear from him from the letters he sends home, he tells his little brother about the things that he learns and how he can't wait for him to join him soon. This makes the mother cry, she can't imagine the District coming to take her other child. Yet she grew in District 2 and she knows that they will come any day now. _

_ When the youngest son turns six they come for him too, and in return the oldest comes back once a week. During his first year of training he is known only as the oldest son's brother. His trainers expect him to be as good as or even better than his older brother, and when he doesn't come through the pressure on him is increased. This creates rivalry and jealousy in the younger boy, causing him to become reckless and ruthless. His trainers are pleased; by the time the younger boy turns twelve years old he shows promise of being the one to volunteer when he comes of age. _

_ By the time the oldest brother turns eighteen that year's mentors come to his home to announce that he has been chosen to volunteer for District 2 during the next Reaping. His father is once more proud and embraces the boy, the mother smiles through the tears; she is scared but knows that her son will come back to her. The youngest son stands back and frowns, unsure of how he feels, but he smiles once his brother joins him on the stone ledge behind their home. The oldest confesses that he is scared, giving him a new light in his brother's eyes, but that he knows that he can win this. He jokes with his brother telling him to pack his bag; they would be moving into the victors village soon. _

_ When Reaping day comes the oldest son volunteers before any other boy can be reaped. He stands tall and proud, he is an icon of what a Tribute from District 2 should look like. His parents are the first to say goodbye, his father just pats him on the back not saying anything, he doesn't need to, the boy already knows. His mother is, once more, in tear unwilling to let him go. He is her first born, she had watched him grow and become the man he is today. She had him ripped out of her arms too many times for her to bear, yet she does nothing to stop them, she speaks no ill words about the Capitol or the games, even the reporters dismiss her tears for happiness. Here stands a proud mother, they said, seeing her son off to become a victor. _

_ But he never comes back, and the youngest son never came to say goodbye._

Cato can just see the sun peaking over the mountain that divides District 2 and the Capitol bringing the Reaping Day back once again. His blue eyes scan the horizon; there is no one else out here but him, then again his house was at the edge of the District, there was no one else for miles around. He sat on the same stone wall his brother and him had sat on the day his mentors came to tell the family the news. They came for Cato too about a month ago; He hadn't been able to bring himself down from the excitement he felt. That is until he saw how his father wasn't smiling the way he had when Marcus had been chosen.

Cato's mentor, Brutus (who had also been one of my trainers in the academy), dismissed his father's indifference and congratulated him before leaving. His father just looked at him; he looked through him, before leaving and going back to work. The blonde remember punching his bedroom wall, he didn't understand that his son had to do this; He had to clear his name. His brother had been an example of weakness after his games. Cato remembers it like it was yesterday.

During the games they were expected to watch them in school instead of doing regular training. There was a silence in the room when his older brother appeared on screen. He was alone with his sword drawn; his allies close behind searching for other tributes, when he came across _her. _The cowering girl was down on her knees, shaking and whimpering, she crossed one arm over her face and held the other out to him in defense.

_"P-please don't kill me,"_ She begged keeping her face hidden from him.

Marcus stood over her, sword in hand, his eyes cold and withdrawn. Cato knew he was going to do it, he had to, she was nothing to him, she couldn't fight back, and she was weak. He would be doing her a favor. Instead, when his allies approached, he shouted at them that there was no one there, to go the opposite way. The girl gazed over her arms, not only had he spared her but he had warned other tributes that they were near.

The thing he did next was the one that Cato could still not understand. He pulled a knife from his back pocket and a roll of bread from his jacket; he laid them down at his feet with caution, before walking backwards into the jungle leaving her alone. The girl was looking at the bread and knife with as much shock and disbelief as the younger brother had.

All eyes turned on Cato, everyone knew Marcus was his older brother, the pride and joy of District 2, and he had just shown weakness by helping that girl. About a week after his brother's mistake he ran into her again, only this time she wasn't crying or cowering. She stood tall holding her axe over her shoulder; she looked better than he did. The spokesmen commented on how the temperature in the jungle kept on rising and how Marcus was becoming dehydrated, while she had received water from her sponsors earlier that day.

_"I'm sorry we had to meet like this again,"_ She said lowering the axe.

Marcus only smiled; he was famous for that smile, _"Don't be. It was my fault; I should have killed you when I had the chance."_

She nodded, _"You should have." _She looked down at her feet choosing her words carefully, _"Just know that I won't be showing you the same kindness."_

_ "I know,"_ He drew his sword with a heavy breath moving forward into the last good fight he ever knew.

Moments later the spokesman announced, in a loud booming voice that rings in my ears to this day, _"Ladies and gentlemen I am proud to present the 71__st__ Hunger Games Victor, Johanna Mason from District 7."_

Cat took a deep breath jumping to his feet. After that the boy's life in the academy became nothing short of a living hell. Trainers and mentors broke him down and created a killing machine. Any sign of weakness on his part would get them saying that Cato was just like his brother, weak. That made the boy angry and his anger made him strong. But he didn't hate his older brother, how could he? Cato couldn't even hate him when their mother became ill, and when she died all he could think about was how much he needed him then. The blonde shook his head keeping his eyes on the ground as he walked. No, he couldn't need him, he couldn't need anyone. He could only look and care about himself.

Just as Cato walked around the side of the house his father comes out making his way to his work shed. He looks at his son briefly but says nothing; Cato lifts his head to stare right back and keeps on walking. They didn't talk much anymore, now they are careful around each other, sometimes he wanted to scream at his father but the blue eyed boy knew that he needed to hold onto that anger.

"_Save it for the Arena,"_ Brutus had said pulling him back from a class mate. He must have spaced out because he didn't remember jumping on the other boy or beating him to a bloody pulp. Cato did that sometimes, went into predator mode and when he would come to there would be someone with a broken arm or a bloody nose lying on the floor. He never apologized for it, he knew how to kill, and he knew how to survive out there. He had made himself hard as a rock after his brother's death. He would not show any mercy for anyone, not even his allies when they were the only ones left.

As for the tributes from District 7, well, Cato planned to make their deaths slow and painful. With any luck Johanna Mason would be watching and she would know that their death's was because of her.

The tall boy made his way through stone paths, which crossed all of District 2, and arrive at the tributes cemetery after about a ten minute walk. Someone stood over his brother's grave, a girl with blonde locks, she didn't look at him until he came to stand by him.

"Helen." He greeted first.

Her gray eyes stayed glued on the pebble covered grave. When someone died in District 2 the people placed small pebbles and stones on their love ones graves as a symbol of thanks and honor. Marcus' grave has a small stack of stones, not many were too happy with what he had done, but those who knew him from the academy, especially those that were too afraid to be reaped, came to pay their respects to him.

Helen was the girl to volunteer this year; she was the top one of their class along with Cato, coming in second. She was better at calculating her moves while he just went head first into things. The elders thought they would make a good match, brawns and brain. She hated him, and she had made it pretty clear to him the day after they got the news.

"_Just know that I am going to kill you the first chance I get." _She informed when Cato came back to the academy after the weekend. And he just smiled throwing his head back, _"We'll see."_

Now she stood with him staring down at his brother's grave, "I meant what I said." She mumbled pulling her coat closer, "First sign of weakness on your part and I will kill you, but if you can prove to be a worthy ally, like I know you can be, we might just make it to the bottom two."

_I'm going to kill you in your sleep. _He thought keeping his azure eyes on the small stack of pebbles.

Helen leaned down to place a pebble on the grave, "I'll see you at the reaping." She bid patting his arm. Cato didn't stay there long, he hated being there but it felt wrong not coming to see his brother on reaping day. He didn't say goodbye to his brother, he couldn't do it. Now he stood there for a moment and left without leaving trace that he was there.

Cato went straight to the Justice Building after visiting his brother's grave. His father was already there standing with the other masons. The older man looked grimed where the other parents looked at their children with pride. Others were taking bets on who were the ones to volunteer this year. A lull grew around when District 2's escort came on the stage. He wasted time introducing the yearly video, and when it came time to reap the girls he made a big deal of mixing up the small sheets of paper around.

A twelve year old kid was reaped first, she didn't move by the time Helen's hand shot up, but before Helen spoke another girl pushed through the crowd holding her hand up, "I Volunteer!" The dark haired girl shouted pushing past the younger girls. Cato smirked looking at Helen's shocked face, "I volunteer as tribute!" the younger girl sneered standing tall with delight.

Mumbles erupted through the crowd but no one stopped her from climbing up on that stage. Cato knew that girl very well and had known she was going to do this, only he thought she was kidding. She came to him, one day while he was his way home, out of nowhere_, "I'm going to volunteer this year."_ She affirmed trying to keep up with his long stride_, "I'm not waiting three more years."_

"_Sure you are."_ He joked.

"_I am, I'm Clove by the way," _She smirked waiting for him to react.

Cato shook his head walking down stone steps toward home, _"I know who you are, you cried on your first day at the Academy." _This made her stop walking for a second.

"_So, what? I'm still doing it."_

_"__You can't, you're not allowed." _He recounted giving her shoulder a shove,_ "and Helen will kill you if you volunteer over her."_

She rolled her eyes at him,_ "They can't stop me."_

Cato placed his large hand on top of her head messing up her hair,_ "Do what you want."_

And now she stood there next to the Escort smiling arrogantly at her family. He was smiling too, still not believing that she had done it. So before their escort could reap anyone else Cato pushed his way forward just like his brother had done three years ago, "I volunteer!"

To his surprise his father came to see his son off, he handed the boy the same pebble necklace his mother had given Marcus when he left, "You can be reckless at times, Cato, but I know you better than anyone." He couldn't look at his father, and kept his hands running over the smooth gray surface of the stone, "You do what you can to come home, but if you have to choose at any moment, choose to do the right thing like your brother did." When his eyes looked up they met the older man's back and he was half way out the door.

Helen burst through the door right after; she was fuming and pulling at her hair. Before he knew it Cato found himself laughing in her face, she was ready to kill the next thing she got her hands on. "Do me a favor and kill her in her sleep!"

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	3. Chapter o3 We Might Fall

Chapter o3.

Tilia

_We should go to sleep now,_

_You should stay the night_

_I'll be up to watch the world around us live and die_

_~We Might Fall by Ryan Star_

Rowan and Tilia sat side by side while Acacia went on and on about how great the Capitol was and how much they would enjoy their few days there and blah, blah, blah. Rowan kept his eyes on the trees that passed by; while Tilia was still in shock and hadn't taken her green eyes of their escorts golden shoes. She was trembling in her seat; her small hands were busy playing with her mother's pendant (she had yet to put it on). Out of the corner of her eye she could see Rowan rest his temple against his knuckles, his eyes traveled from the ceiling to her moving hands.

He turned his gaze to her face when she stopped moving her hands. Rowan and Tilia had grown up together; they weren't really what you would call friends, the two just stuck to each other in school. The pair rarely ever spoke but somehow he always knew when something was wrong. After the fire the Hemlocks became part of Tilia's life. Mr. Hemlock was the overseer of most of the logging that took place in District 7, when people needed someone to blame for what had happened they blamed him. She remembers the day he and his family showed up at her house to pay their condolences. Her mother never blamed the man for anything, the fire was unexplained, it was an accident…he couldn't have known.

Tilia had a few friends growing up, just a couple girls that would sometimes let her play with them, most of the time they chose to ignore her. Not Rowan, he had a large group of friend but would opt to leave them behind to keep the smaller girl company. His twin Brother, Oliver, was a whole different story. He didn't like Tilia; he thought she was a nuisance and ignored her more than the others.

She turned her reserved stare from Acacia's shoes to the escort's face slowly pursing her lips. She was still talking, but Tilia couldn't understand any of the words she was saying, there was just loud ringing in her ears. Suddenly strong hands rested on both of her shoulders breaking her from the trance, "Cia, Johanna needs help picking out a new outfit," Blight gave her shoulders a squeeze, "she doesn't want to embarrass you like she did last year, so could you be a dear?"

The light green haired woman's eyes seemed to light up even more, "Sure, but-"

"Don't worry, I got it from here." Blight reassured, he was probably giving her a smile.

Acacia beamed at the two tributes before standing from her seat, "I'm glad she is finally seeing it my way!" Blight's reassuring grip on Tilia shoulders tightened weighing down on her, not enough to be painful but enough to keep her calm, when Acacia walked by, "She has no fashion sense what so ever!"

"Not a fashionable bone in her," The older man agreed.

Acacia nodded before walking out the door, "Not one, Blight!"

Blight waited for a moment before taking her old seat across from his tributes, he didn't say anything just smirked and raised a proud eyebrow at them.

"Does she ever shut up?" Rowan spoke up first.

Blight shook his head, smile growing wider, "Never."

"I was about to start looking for something to hit her with." The boy said making the mentor chuckle.

Tilia turned her eyes back to the pendant in her hands before softly adding, "I could've covered her eyes, and you could've choked her then."

Blight tilted his head trying to get her to meet his gaze, "How are you holding up, kid?"

She didn't get a chance to answer before Johanna Mason burst through the door; she was looking around making sure Acacia was gone, taking a seat next to Blight. "The little twit is probably raiding my closet by now, so let's get to work."

Johanna took hold of a bright pastry, "So what are you good at?" The tributes looked at each other unsure on who she was talking to, "I'm talking to you, shorty." Tilia's eyes widened at the name, Blight only chuckled at her reaction.

"I- uh," The girl licked her lower lip trying to think of something, "I'm good at climbing, I know how to gather and I know about plants and insects." She never thought she would have to use her mother's teachings to murder anyone, just the thought of it made her sick to her stomach.

The mentor nodded taking a bite of her cake, "And what do you do?" Now she turned to the boy, Rowan raised his chin matching her in form, "I was an apprentice lumber jack."

"So you can do a bit of everything?" She challenged, "Can you kill too?"

Rowan didn't hesitate to answer, "When the time calls for it, yes."

Johanna and Blight smiled simultaneously at him, he knew the right things to say while his district partner had been afraid to say anything. Tilia looked back down at her hands trying to make herself small. They would both fight over who would mentor Rowan, she doubted either one would bother with her; she would be dead before the bloodbath was over for sure.

"I'll be your mentor." Blight cheered playfully kicking Tilia's foot so that she would look at him, "I've known you longer and Johanna doesn't know how to be nice." Tilia frowned turning to look at Johanna; she sat back on her chair staring back at the younger girl with a look of superiority.

Blight reached over an took the cake from her earning himself a hand to the back of the head, "And try not to get too chummy with each other," she ordered, "It will only make it harder when it comes to killing the other, if it ever comes to that."

"What do you mean?" Rowan questioned.

His mentor only shrugged and continued to pick at the pastry before her like she didn't have a care in the world, "Well, unless you two plan on being allies in the arena, I wouldn't bother."

The older boy took Tilia by surprise stating that he wouldn't want anyone for an ally but her, a bit on the over dramatic side for Johanna's taste. She only rolled her eyes, "Fine then, looks like you get your way this year, Blight."

Tilia's mentor gave her a boyish smile, "We'll get you sponsors by selling you off as childhood friends, Rowan being the protective fighter and you my dear…" he stopped smiling at the loss of words, tilting his head with a grim expression trying to find something nice to say about the shy girl.

Tilia tucked her chin against her chest slowly bringing her eyes away from her hands once more. She felt nothing short of pathetic.

"A weak and frightened child hiding behind a gentle giant," Johanna added making the girl feel worse.

"Johanna Mason!" All heads snapped back to the train car's door, "What have I told you about saying rude things?" Acacia scold making her way through the dining table behind them.

The older girl set her plate down before clearing her throat, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." She made a point of mocking Acacia's Capitol drawl, causing the green-blonde to go red-faced. "Is it dinner time yet?" Johanna interrupted before standing from her seat, followed by the two tributes. Tilia paused from getting up noticing how her mentor hadn't move an inch. He gave her a soft smile, "It's alright, go on." She pursed her lower lip before following Rowan to where the two older woman sat, leaving her baffled mentor behind.

Blight had been a mentor for years and had never encountered a problem giving his tribute a concept to follow. But Tilia was tricky, she was short for her age (most people from District 7 were usually tall), her eyes were always casted down and she had a tendency of hiding behind a curtain of long hair. The mentor breathed loudly out of his nose leaning back on his seat, he could work with her, and he knew he could. If he could turn Johanna Mason, a beacon of hot-temper and rebellion, into a whimpering mess then he could make this shy child into a fearless tribute. After all he and Johanna were experts when it came to deception. His hazel stare turned to were the young girl sat now, just in time to catch her clasping her mother's pendant around her neck.

He realized then that she could be like the creature in the pendant, Howlets looked weak and fragile but their feathers were made out of titanium fibers. He would turn her skin from porcelain to steel before she went into that arena.

Sleep did not come for Tilia on that first night, soon she found herself passing her small compartment trying to tire herself out. The events of that day had exhausted her yet she could not find rest in the strange bed. She dragged her feet across the soft green carpet, having discarded her boots at the foot of the bed, she wondered out of her room bare foot. She had learned from a young age to quiet her step, once her mother began her depression she was terrified to let the young girl out of the house for any reason, so Tilia thought herself how to sneak out of her house just so she could go to school.

She didn't blame her mother for being so scared, she had been scared too, but she knew she had to keep going. Her father would have wanted her too.

Tilia made it all the way to the engine car where two Peacekeepers were conducting the train. She stood close trying to hear what they were saying, picking gently through the crack of the sliding door, their backs were to her; she could see the small hologram of the Reaping playing over he trains controls. It didn't take her long to realize that they were beating, amongst themselves, on who would win this year.

"It's definitely going to be him," The older peacekeeper stated smugly crossing his arms over his chest, "the Career from District 2, you can count on it."

The younger of the two shook his head pointing at the hologram, "I bet it's going to be the boy from eleven, or even the girl from 4!"

"Are you serious? The girl from 4?"

The younger peacekeeper was adamant, "What makes you think the boy from 2 is going to win?"

Tilia pressed forward slightly to try and get a better look at the hologram, she gasped once she got a good look at who they were talking about. Even thought it was a hologram she could still see the fearlessness in his stand, and the vicious look in his icy orbs. She pushed herself away from the door just as the younger of the peacekeeper stood to check on the door, she thought about running but by then the door was fully open.

"Are you alright miss?" The younger of the two asked.

"You shouldn't be out of bed-!" The other scolded.

Tilia found herself lost for words, unable to get the image of those artic eyes out of her head. She brought one hand to her neck and tried to smile through her nerves, "I- I was just…looking for some water." She cleared her throat keeping her eyes on theirs like Blight had instructed, "I must have gone the wrong way, my mistake." She finished turning on her heel.

"I can show you the wa-"

She turned back, "No! It's alright, I…I can find it on my own." She pressed her lips into a tin line trying to seem confident, "Goodnight."

Once out of the engine car she wrapped her arms protectively around herself, as she walked, trying to hold herself together. She could just imagine the horrors that the boy on the hologram could bring with just his bare hands. He looked like someone she would try to avoid at all cause, but how could she? She would be stuck in the Arena with him, him and other tributes like him. If she was lucky she would have a quick death during the bloodbath, if not then she would have to fight her way home.

"What are you doing?" A groggy voice called from somewhere in the darkness.

Tilia's green eyes met Rowan's own gaze. The older boy stood halfway out of his door, his light brown hair a mess, rubbing his eye with his knuckles, "Couldn't sleep." She replied walking cautiously past him.

"Me either." He mumbled looking down at her just as she stood next to him. He could tell by the way she was standing (arms wrapped around her, hunched over like she was waiting for someone to strike at her) that there was something wrong.

She slowly looked up at him causing the curtain of black locks to fall over her shoulders, "Liar." She whispered smiling softly.

Rowan chuckled watching her walk further down the cart, "Where are you going?"

She paused for a moment before looking back at him, "To check out the competition." He didn't have to ask further, he was curious enough to follow her all the way to the last compartment where the wide window and their personal hologram were. They sat together in front of the screen in silence watching reruns on the reaping this year. Before Rowan had a chance to comment on the first tributes to be shown Tilia rested her head on his shoulder, seemingly asleep.

The older boy sighed, thankful that she had been able to find rest, and as he watched and memorized the faces of his fellow tributes he made a silence promise to himself.

* * *

The process before meeting her stylist was, in short, torture for Tilia. The young woman inflicting the pain was Cleo, a tall pale haired girl, who would constantly apologize whenever she saw the younger girl flinch or cry out in pain. "Just think of the pain as, uh, something preparing you for the real pain!" She tried cheerfully before ripping another wax strip of Tilia's leg, "That didn't come out right, sorry!" She quickly apologized.

Tilia found herself trying to hate Cleo but she couldn't bring herself too. Out of all of the other Capitol creatures in the room around them, Cleo seemed to be the only one genuinely concerned for her tribute's wellbeing. She would try to get Tilia to talk to distract her from most of the waxing, would give her shoulders reassuring squeezed before she would start pulling at her hair. She was also the only one working on Tilia, while other tributes had at least two or more assistants working on them. When Tilia asked why that was Cleo replied with, "I'm hard to work with, I guess, besides I like to do things on my own."

Tilia nodded letting the white haired girl to go back to scrubbing whatever skin was left on her legs, "One more shower, and then you will be all set for Rollo." Cleo announced helping her up from the table before walking besides her to the showers. That was another thing about Cleo; she would never make Tilia follow her around, she would walk next to her staring at the other assistance in defiance. She acted like she cared for the tribute, like it didn't matter that she would be dead in a few days; she seemed to want to get to know Tilia.

Once in the showers Tilia took her robe off before sitting on the stool provided for her, Cleo stood behind her holding the shower hose over the girl's dark locks. Then it happened again, before she could stop herself, Tilia began to cry. She had wanted to cry since she had been woken up that morning by Acacia's cheerful voice, and when Blight had told her to change her clothes before they arrived. Then just as she saw the Capitol outside of the dinning compartments windows she turned her eyes down cast to try and keep the tears away. Now she couldn't hold it anymore, not when this Capitol creature was being so nice and kind to her. It was all too much for her.

So under the warm streaming water and Cleo's blue eyes she let go and sobbed until she couldn't cry anymore. "My mother used to tell me that big girls didn't cry, when I was growing up," for once Cleo found words of comfort, "but you have been through so much, you go ahead and cry," Tilia nodded while the older girl began to dry, "But once you are out there you have to put on a brave face. Can you do that?"

The dark haired girl took a deep breath trying to calm down, "I can try."

Cleo nodded before giving her a suspicious look, "You're not pulling a Johanna Mason on me, are you? I was so mad when I found out she'd been faking it!"

Tilia laughed, actually laughed, through the tears, "No."

"Good, let's go meet Rollo then."

The two walked down a long corridor with silver walls, and several sliding doors. The two walked into the seventh room, inside was a couch pushed against the furthest wall, a vanity with several boxes of what Tilia could only guess was make up, there was also a circular platform set up on the floor. Cleo instructed for Tilia to sit on the high vanity chair so that she could start working on her hair while waiting for the stylist.

"He'd probably got caught up by Acacia," The assistant mumbled brushing away, "you'd think that after five years they would be over being apart for two days."

Tilia didn't get a chance to ask just as the door opened revealing a tall, white haired man, in green suit holding a garment bag over his shoulder. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were warm and welcoming. "You must be Tilia," he extended a pale hand towards the young girl, "pleasure to meet you." He didn't seem please, in fact he didn't even sound please. His voice was low and even, completely rid of emotion. Tilia shook his hand pursing her lips slightly. She didn't know that there were people in the Capitol that weren't always cheerful.

"My name is Rollo, I will be your stylist," he motioned to his assistant, "you have already met Cleo."

Tilia nodded slowly looking up at his face, his eyes were the same color as the boy's from two, but held no malice in them. She knew what he was there for, he was the same stylist Johann had her year.

Johanna had mocked him over breakfast that morning, _"He made me look like a doll."_

"You're going to turn me into a doll…" she hears herself say out loud.

Cleo laughed and for the first time, Rollo, gave her a soft smile, "I'm not very fond of dolls," he mumbled smiling down at the ground. "Let's get you ready, shall we?" Cleo helped the tribute off the chair and onto the round platform. It didn't make much of a difference; Tilia was still too short standing on a two foot stage. Tilia pursed her lips keeping her eyes on the floor before Cleo helped her out of the clinical looking gown. It didn't take them long to dress her in a strapless leotard made out of bark.

Tilia stood still, raising her arms, to allow Rollo to strap a belt just below her bust; the belt had small hooks from where the stylist hooked tin branches all around her. To cover the belt they placed an assortment of lush green leaves from her bust to just below her collar bone. It was hard for the brunette to find a comfortable way to hold her arms down, and once the branches where in place she couldn't sit down, forcing her to stand while getting her makeup and hair done. Rollo didn't mind, she was short enough for him and his stylist to work on, Tilia however was beginning to feel the strain on her back.

The assistant quickly pulled all of her hair into a high ponytail, after she began the process of turning it into a frizzy mess by pulling the strands up and brushing it down) apologizing at every whimper that left Tilia's lips). Once that was done she wrapped the mess around the top of her head creating a very messy bun. Her stylist had been busy creating a crown out of twigs, leaves and small white flowers, which they carefully placed around the bun.

"Almost done, my dear," Rollo assured, "Cleo help her down, I'll do her make up in the stables," he ordered opening one of the boxes on the vanity table. The blonde haired girl looked down at Tilia's feet, "No shoes?"

"No shoes." Rollo called walking past them.

There were a few other tributes and their stylist in the wide area, as well as Avoxs caring for the horses, preparing them for the parade. Tilia kept her eyes on her feet or the back of Rollo's head. She couldn't bring herself to look at the other tributes, after what she had seen on the hologram the night before she feared that the rest would be as terrifying as the boy from 2 had been. The three came to a stop next to the District 7 carriage where she had expected to find Rowan and his prep team, instead she found her mentors surveying the other tributes.

"We are so fu-" Johanna started shaking her head, but was interrupted by Rollo pushing past her gracelessly, "hey! Watch it!"

The stylist looked down at her with his deadpan face, "Oh, I am sorry- oh, it's just _you_. Well, never mind." Tilia's lips turned o-shaped unsure of what was going on between the two, but became at easy when she notice Blight holding his finger over his mouth, by the way his shoulder were shaking she could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. The mentor turned his gaze to his tribute, his eyes widen and the laughter cased, "Well look at that," he smiled causing Tilia to look down at her bare feet, "Tilia, what did we talk about," Blight scold raising her head up by the chin, "Never look at the ground, eye contact is everything."

The brunette bit the inside of her mouth and nodded.

"Rollo! You completely outdid yourself this year!" Acacia squealed, walking around Tilia to see every aspect of the costume.

"Oh, look at that, a tree!" Johanna mocked standing next to Rollo, "How original." The stylist ignored her waving the tribute over to begin the final process of getting her ready. Rollo was quick about drawing small leaf designs on the corner of her eyes.

"You have lovely eyes, did you know that?" He complimented never stopping to notice the blush grown on her cheeks, "They remind me of owl eyes."

She was trying hard to find the right words but was interrupted by the arrival of her District partner. Rowan looked beyond uncomfortable having his chest and arms wrapped in vines; he wore pants made out of tree bark. Around his head rested a crown of twigs and leaves much like Tilia's own only his had red berries on it, and his eyes were covered designs of leaves to match hers.

"You look nice," He smiled looking down at his partner, "uncomfortable, but nice."

She had a hard time smiling with Rollo working over her. Johanna stood close to her tribute inspecting with narrowed eyes, "I guess trees will do, like they do every year."

"I wasn't a tree my year." Blight commented, "I just wore leaves around my waits."

Johanna smirked, "It took a couple of leaves to cover _that_ up?"

The freckled ma n tilted his head to the side, "I didn't say I was completely covered, did I?"

The stylist snickered. Acacia was having none of it and began to tell the two mentors to focus on the task ahead, "You should be prepping them, not fighting like children!"

"She started it," Blight mumbled walking away to stand closer to his own tribute. The District 7 team was quiet for a moment, while the stylist finished their work more tributes arrived. It was Rowan that noticed the Careers first; he knew who they were from watching their reaping the previous night. First came the two from District 4, the district usually got two Career tributes but fortunately this year only the girl was Career material, the boy couldn't of have been older than twelve. District 1 followed in arriving, the girl was a sight for sore eyes, and he knew that she was as pretty as she would be deathly. The boy was skinny and tall, not really what Rowan expected a Career tribute to look like, but he was trained to kill none the less.

By the Time the Career's from District 1 arrived Tilia was standing by her district partner's side completely mesmerized by the other tributes.

"See that girl over there?" Rowan leaned down to whisper, nodding his head in the direction of the girl dressed in a black full-body suit, "She volunteered when her sister was reaped, from District 12."

Tilia remained quiet watching the girl in aw, she wondered then if she would have volunteered if Dafne had been reaped and found she was unsure of the answer. _No,_ she thought looking at her feet, _I'm not brave enough._

Rowan turned his green stare away from the tribute from District 12 spotting the last Careers as they appeared. He found himself standing taller for some reason, especially when the dark haired tribute side glanced to look at him. He notices how she tapped her district partners arm nodding in their direction.

A gasp left Tilia's lips when she saw the boy from the hologram standing a few feet away from them. He paid no attention to the tributes from District 7, at first, his azure eyes searched for someone else. Once he found her his eyes narrowed, it was then that he turned his glare to the District 7 tributes; his scold was replaced by a tight lip sneer.

* * *

**Cliffhanger? I don't know.**

**So I really need some Reviews because I feel like this isn't even worth it. I don't want to stop writing, but I'm the type of person that needs feedback to get inspired into writing. So please, let me know what you thought. **


	4. Chapter o4 Bad Bloos

Chapter o4.

Cato

_And you said you always had my back  
Oh but how were we to know  
that these are the days that bind you together, forever  
and these little things define you forever, forever_

_~Bad Blood by Bastille_

This was what Cato knew: Johanna Mason had changed.

Her long hair was now cut short; she was taller and held her head high. Even her eyes had changed; they were filled with hatred and rage, much like his. But didn't matter how much she had changed, Cato could pick her out in a crowd of a thousand. He wanted nothing more than to march right up to her and wrap his hands around her neck; just the thought of watching the life leave her eyes was enough to appease him, for now.

The Career had to tear his eyes away from the mentor to calm himself, he knew better than to get emotional, but soon found his eyes wondering to the Tributes from District 7. He was surprised, at first, to find two sets of green eyes watching him as well. The boy was almost as tall as him, he was of a larger built, and he probably spent his whole day chopping down trees back home. As for the girl well, Cato found himself leaning his head back smirking, she was incredibly short, probably shorter than Clove, but was all legs. Her eyes were wide with fear, she turned her eyes to the ground the second their eyes met, and that made him smile even more.

The boy could possibly be a challenge. He could probably get a good fight out of him, gaining himself even more sponsors. As for the girl, well, he didn't see how she could put up much of a fight. If anything he would save her for last, just like Johanna had done to his brother, giving her a slow death to end her short life.

He would not show mercy.

He would not make the same mistakes.

"Those two are mine," He said softly.

The fifteen year old girl next to him looked up from her stylist work following his gaze. Clove tsked, "Even the girl?"

"Especially the girl."

The younger girl rolled her eyes; she didn't know what Cato had in mind for the District 7 girl. She didn't know about his personal vendetta, nor did she care, but that didn't mean she wasn't interested, "Why? She'll probably be dead before the bloodbath is over."

Her district partner didn't answer he just kept his gaze on them, going from Johanna Mason to the tributes. Clove could see that his eyes seemed far away, he wasn't here anymore, and he was planning how things would play out. How he would corner the weakest tributes first and save the strongest for later. Clove sighed turning her own brown hues to her District 1 allies; they weren't even looking at the other tributes, and two busy looking at themselves in the mirrors provided by their stylist.

Clove was the youngest of all five Careers, the girl from District 4 would be part of the Career pact this year, and somehow she felt like her allies didn't take her seriously for it. She had volunteered over the girl that was chosen carefully over the years, and that took guts. Even her mentor was impressed with her, but had been clear to tell the girl not to let her guard down around her allies. The dark haired girl didn't care how much she had to prove herself, or how much she had offended her district, she would not wait three more year for something she knew she was ready for.

_Tributes to your chariots._

Cato walked a step behind his shorter partner letting her get up on their chariot first. He paused for a moment to look back at them one last time, before joining Clove, just in time to catch a glimpse of the girl holding onto the boys arm. He frowned not understanding what they were trying to prove. If anything it made the smaller girl seem weaker, like she depended on the boy to stay alive. This only made Cato want to kill them even more.

The blonde climbed the chariot taking his eyes of the other tributes, that's when the girl felt brave and raised her eyes to look at him catching him off guard. He looked pensive, tense around the shoulders, and deathly. Her grip around her partner's elbow tightened while their chariot pulled them forward only stopping behind the District 6 chariot.

Once the outside air hit his face, the Career forgot about the tributes from District 7. His main focus was on gaining sponsors, he knew that Sponsors could come between life and death in the Arena, and the only way to do it was by standing tall and waving. He hated every second of it, but he didn't show it. He knew how to hide his emotions when the time called for it; it was something he had to learn. He looked down at Clove briefly to see her holding her hand up in the air, she was saluting more than waving, and he did the same gaining calls from the crowd.

And for a brief moment he had the Capitol bough.

Until the District 7 chariot was half way out the door. The girl had become frightened and had tried to hide her face behind her partner's arms causing a loud "Aw" from the audience. Cato could see all of this happening from the large screens that surrounded the runway; he turned his free hand into a fist. He didn't understand how could they like that? He quickly found himself wondering if they could get sponsors that way. Cato dismissed the idea as soon as he got it. There was no way a show of weakness like that could get anyone sponsors. By the time the District 12 chariot came out the tributes from 7 lost the crowds interest, and Cato only grew more enraged.

They were on fire, real fire by the looks of it, which was something no one had seen before. They look strong and powerful, and fearless.

"Those two are mine!" Clove growled through her smile.

Cato huffed, "Not if I get to them first."

Four Chariots away the girl from District 7 found herself looking up at the screens to see the tributes from District 12. They looked so beautiful, and for the first time in years she found herself grateful for fire. Her mentor had told her that the Career's didn't like to be upstaged by anyone, let alone tributes from the outer Districts. If anything, they would be coming for the tributes from District 12 first, giving her and her partner a little more time.

**Rowan**

His green hues watched the excitement from the city below play out. There had been an uproar after the Tributes from 12 had appeared taking the attention away from everyone. He remembered the soft sigh of relief that head escaped both his and Tilia's lips. He knew they had both been thinking about the same thing. If things played out the way he hoped they would be able to live another day. He turned his back to the window to look at his new room, it was way bigger than the room he shared with Oliver, and it was too big for him. He was supposed to clean up for dinner but he didn't see how he could force himself to eat anything after the nigh he had.

Rowan looked down at his arm remembering how Tilia had held onto him during the parade. It was Blight's idea, she had been hesitant at first, but her mentor insisted. He didn't think Blight knew she would be hiding her face against him once they were out of the runway. Yet somehow having her lean on him for strength seemed to have some effect on the people of the Capitol.

They seemed to eat it up.

Some of them even started calling out their names, and Tilia slowly looked up and came out of her shell. Rowan found himself smiling remembering the way her face seemed to light up once she started to wave. Her grip on his arm never seemed to loosen until they were back inside the training center.

Tilia was terrified, physically and mentally terrified. This was a problem that Johanna Mason liked to point out constantly. The boy sat on the edge of the bed looking down at his hands. They were calloused and rough from working in the Cambium. He knew how to handle and axe fairly well, and he had seen Tilia climb the trees to help measure them, she was one of the few that didn't need spikes on her shoes to climb. But being a good climber wasn't good enough for Johanna.

A loud knock broke his thoughts; he didn't have time to get to the door before his mentor let herself in. She crossed her arms over her chest leaning against the door blocking his escape exit, "You missed dinner."

Rowan shrugged looking out the window again, "Wasn't hungry."

The older girl took no offense to his withdrawn attitude. They had gotten off on the wrong foot since their first meeting. It wasn't Johana's fault that Tilia was the weaker of the two, the least likely to survive. It was her job to keep Rowan alive and she couldn't do that if he had Tilia to think of. "Well, you missed Acacia's big announcement." She toned her voice softly, "That little act you guys put at the parade paid off. You two have a few sponsors lined up."

The news made Rowan smug, "She's not as useless as you thought."

To which she responded, "Acting like a frighten child is an advantage, actually being one will get you killed. Now we both know that she isn't acting."

"But _you_ know I'm right." He continued.

Johanna narrowed her eyes, "I think you could do better with stronger allies."

The green eyes boy groaned meeting her eyes, "Like whom? The Careers? They would rather see us dead."

She shook her head, "I could get you the boy from 11, even the girl from 4. Finnick Odair owns me a favor anyways."

Rowan shook his head, "I can't leave her behind, and I _won't _leave her. I have to get her home."

"And_ I_ have to get _you _home!" She shouted storming towards him, "Just help me understand why she's so important and maybe-"

"If you want to help me, help me keep her alive in the arena. If you're just going to keep on trying to convince me to get better allies I suggest you save your breath." Rowan had had enough. He didn't know how to answer her. He didn't know why Tilia was so important to him, he loved her like a little sister, and they had grown up together. That was his reason but he knew it wouldn't be enough for Johanna.

The mentor said nothing before leaving. She didn't understand, nor would she understand until it was too late. She found Blight launching across the long sofa, his legs dangling over the arm rest, without a care in the world. He was staring up at the ceiling, lips moving slowly, talking to himself again. She was used to seeing this calm before the storm, by the time he headed to his room he would start throwing furniture around.

"How'd it go?" He asked biting the back of his finger.

The younger girl rolled her eyes, "He's stubborn I'll give him that."

"He reminds me of you," Her blue eyes snapped to meet his own, "I could never get you to agree with any of my plans, and here we are." With a freckled hand he reached out to pull himself up on the arm rest, "Give him a couple of days, maybe he'll come around.

Breakfast, the next morning, was a tense event. Rollo had invited himself over putting Acacia in a light mood.

"As you both know you have two days of training, to get you somewhat ready for the arena. On the third day each tribute will be individually tested and be given a score between one and 12," Blight explained picking at his food, "I want you two to work on what you know and try to learn something that could be useful." He turned to Johanna, the girl remain quiet lifting a defiant eyebrow at her food, "Tilia, I need you to pick a weapon. You can survive on knowing what plants and insects can kill but that won't be enough to survive."

Tilia's green hues stayed on her mentor's face before turning to her District partner, "and Rowan, well, I think it would be best for you to know more than how to use an axe."

The two found themselves down on the first floor of the training center surrounded by their fellow tributes and several instructors. All twenty four stood in a circle while the head trainer explained what they were to do for the first two days of training. Rowan's eyes would wonder from the tributes to the trainer. He couldn't help but to notice how young both the girl from 11 and the boy from 4 were, how much bigger bot Career boys were up close. When his eyes landed on the girl from 1 she smiled at him, and arrogant deathly smile.

The boy from 7 tried hard not to roll his eyes. From the side he could see Tilia standing closer to him than she had been when they first arrived. She was watching the others as well. The first person she had spotted was the girl from District 12. There was a sort of admiration in Tilia's eyes, it made him smile. He tore his eyes away to look back at the head trainer only to notice that he hadn't been the only one watching the short girl next to him.

The Career from district 1 had been paying close attention to the tributes from 7. Rowan tried not to make eye contact for long keeping his eyes on the head trainer. He didn't want to seem intimidated but he also knew that it would be better not to draw attention to them before they got into the arena. Once the twenty-four tributes broke apart the brown haired boy found himself and his partner wondering from station to station trying to find something to do. He couldn't help but to notice the curious side glances he would get from his fellow tributes whenever they passed by. Tilia on the other hand kept her eyes on the ground following her feet, only looking up to make sure Rowan was still close.

He worried all morning, after breakfast, about his partners skills. He knew she had learnt about healing plants and poisonous insects from her mother growing up, but other than that she was pretty helpless.

Then again…

"Can you climb that?" Rowan's voice broke the trance she had been in.

Her green eyes slowly looked up from the ground, "What?"

The boy smirked lifting his hand to point at the tallest pillar in the room, "I think it's a simulator," he stated walking towards the station.

"A what?" Tilia called following after him

Tree climbing was something she was actually good at, Rowan remembered seeing her do it back home. Sometimes if he looked hard enough he could spot her yards above his head while he worked in the Cambium. He could feel the careers watching them closely while he tried to mess with the pillars controllers.

"What are you doing?" Tilia asked looking over his arm, "I thought you were afraid of heights." She whispered standing on his tippy toe in attempt for him to be the only one to hear.

Rowan found himself smiling in spite of himself. She would remember that. First year in school and everyone wanted to see who could climb the highest. The tree couldn't have been more than six feet, but to Rowan it seemed to go on for miles. He remembered Tilia climbing the thing with ease making it about half way up before jumping down. His older brother, Oliver, did It too and he never did anything fun, even as kids, so Rowan had to do it too. But when it came time for him to have a go at it he froze. He looked up once and he froze where he stood.

One of the other kids laughed calling him out on it, which was the first time Rowan ever hit anyone.

"I didn't say I was going to climb it, did I?" His smile unnerved her even more than the buzzing sound coming from the metal pillar. She turned her eyes to the structure that soon began to change in height and texture. The smooth surface began to turn rough and hard resembling pine bark. "Sixty feet too high for you?" He asked watching branches extend from the main pillar.

Tilia pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear unsure of what to say. "I'm supposed to be picking out a weapon," she started to argue.

Rowan said nothing until the pillar had stopped buzzing, "All in good time, now," he stood behind her placing his hands on her shoulder, "Show them what you can do." He didn't have to tell her twice, she knew who he was talking about. They had been watching them all morning. All eyes turned to her once she was about ten feet up. She was a steady climber, like Rowan remembered, and didn't seem to struggle with her footing.

For once since this whole thing started she seemed oddly calm. High above the ground where no one could reach her. Rowan's smile fell; he didn't even realize he had been smiling, when she reached the top. Even though she had felt like she was safe it soon dawned on them that their last remaining days would be spent in a cage that could simulate being home.

**Cato**

"Will you look at that?" Marvel says nudging his District Partner on the shoulder causing her to lower the bow and arrow in her hands. Glimmer smiles watching the smaller girl reach the training center's ceiling before making her way back down.

"Too bad, he already called dibs on them." The blonde girl says turning her attention back to the target before her, "I would gladly have him as an ally."

Cato swings his swords chopping a head of the dummy that stands before him. It flies off in the District 1 Careers direction, which motions them to go on about their business. He had told them earlier that day that he would be the one to kill the tributes from seven. He remembered the way Glimmer had frowned before meeting her partner's eyes. Now hearing Marvel talk about them made Cato sure of one thing: They both wanted one of the District 7 tributes as allies.

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**Sorry for the late update. I have been busy with work, and Cato Chapter's are usually harder for me to write. Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you thought.**

**I would like to thank Chloe The Imaginative for her lovely review, it meant a lot!**


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